I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep last night. I haven’t been sleeping well in general, and last Monday night (night before therapy session) I couldn’t sleep at all. So last night I took 1mg of klonopin before bed. I hated myself for doing it. I’ve been tapering off the klonopin for about 4 months now, and I was finally down to ¼ of a .5mg tablet. Last week I finally stopped taking it, I couldn’t cut the pill any smaller or it would crumble. I started having trouble sleeping when I got down to that last low dose, but I thought I could tough it out and my body would adjust. It has to adjust eventually right?
But last night I couldn’t stand the thought of being up half the night and I took the klonopin. I slept great. I didn’t budge until 7am when the alarm went off. I disgust myself. I finally got off the stuff and I took it again, and it worked like a charm. Argh.
I got to therapy and there was the usual question, “What are we talking about today?” He said the things he is interested in are where I am on the self injury flowchart and how my job at the hotline is going. I have no idea why he is obsessed with those things, they barely register on my thinking on a day to day basis.
I told J I hate that question, it causes me to panic, and that I woke up at 6am yesterday morning thinking about that question and what I was going to say. That led to a discussion of what I am afraid of. We talked about how I am waiting for “other shoe to drop” (and J explained the origin of that expression because I never knew what the hell it meant, even though I use it all the time). J asked me if there have been any relationships in my life where someone left me because they found out something about me, and I said no. But I never tell anybody any of this stuff about me, this is the first time. J told me that he has had to terminate (bad choice of words, mine not his) three patients. Two came on to him (women I’m assuming), and one threatened him to the point where he was glad that the police station is across the street.
I would not do those things (I could never come on to someone who looks like Brad Pitt and is 10 years younger than me) of course. He assures me there is nothing I could say that would make him kick me out. I guess I’m more afraid that the more I tell him the more repulsed he will be by me and he just won’t want to see me anymore, or he won’t have empathy for me. How could someone who knows all of this stuff about me want to even look at me?
Somehow this led to a discussion of my marriage and how I’m also waiting for the other shoe to drop with my husband. We talked about my marriage, how it is, how my husband I relate. My husband and I don’t spend a lot of time together. He does his thing and I do mine. It works really well for both of us and my husband claims he loves me and wants to stay married to me. I asked him, I said, “Now that the kids are older and you don’t need me do you still want to stay married to me.” He said, “Of course, why wouldn’t I?” J asked if my husband loves me and I told him that he says he does, but what does that really mean? J asked how I could improve my marriage and I couldn’t really think of anything. It really does work. We never fight, but we never really connect either. That’s just me, I don’t really connect to anyone anymore.
I told J that I “overlook” a lot, and that is what I think makes the marriage work. He asked if I hold back from confronting my husband because of my fear that he will leave me. Do I do that? I don’t know, I have to think about it.
Then we talked, again for the gazillionth time, how I am hard on myself, I don’t see anything positive about myself, etc. J asked why my husband loves me and I don’t know. He asked me about good qualities about my husband and I listed a whole bunch. He asked me if I think I’m a good wife and I said no. He asked me what is good about me in my relationship with my husband and I said that I don’t have affairs, and that is good. He said that is the absence of negative, it is not a positive. Anything good about myself would be the absence of negative – I’ve never killed anyone, I don’t steal or cheat on anyone, etc. He asked me if that’s due to my mom, and I told him I felt bad about everything I said about my mom last week because she is not a bad person. He said he knows that and I asked how he knows that, because I didn’t really tell him anything good about her. He said he doesn’t mean to stereotype me, but I’m pretty typical for a daughter of a mother like mine. He said my mother was anxious, and had high expectations, and wasn’t supportive, she didn’t think my worth was due to me as a person, but more because of what I did. He said everyone messes up their kids, even parents who are 99% perfect. There is always going to be that time that they weren’t there for their child when the child needed them.
He once again asked me to state something good about myself. Somehow we got onto the subject of me being reliable and I grudgingly admitted that maybe, sort of, I guess I’m reliable, sort of. He wanted me to forget the maybe, sort of, I guess and just say I’m reliable. It doesn’t mean I’m 100% reliable, because no one is perfect. But I’m a reliable person. Ok, I admitted that I am a reliable person. He said my homework for this week is not to think of good things about myself, which I seem to have confused with good deeds, but to reinforce to myself that I am a reliable person and to come up with another thing about me that is good.
I asked him if he was done with my DVD, and it turns out he never watched it. It was still in his computer, but for some reason he couldn’t watch it on his computer – who doesn’t have Windows media player (he doesn’t have a Mac so there goes that excuse)? He gave it back to me and when I got into the car I broke it into lots of tiny pieces. I never knew it was so hard to break a DVD, netflix doesn’t seem to have that much trouble breaking DVDs. I guess he wasn’t too interested in watching it, even though every week he asks me where I am in my flowchart of self-injury.
I feel really sad now. Therapy brings out all of these things. I knew all along that I can’t think of anything good about myself, but having to admit it out loud makes it so much more real. Who can’t think of one good thing about themselves? Not like “I’m a good cook”, I have that stuff. I mean something good about myself as a person. How pathetic am I? Everything about me is fake, that’s what it feels like. And I realize that parents influence their children, but I am 49 years old and I’m still being influenced by my mother. That is so…..I don’t even know.
Therapy makes me feel like shit. I’m glad J isn’t a cheerleader, my son’s therapist was like that and it didn’t feel genuine. I knew it was fake. I’m glad J doesn’t do that, actually today he started to tell me that I’m perseverant, that he has patients who come 2 or 3 times and quit because they aren’t willing to make the commitment to work at themselves, but I keep coming week after week even though it is incredibly anxiety provoking. But then he said, “I don’t want to point out your good qualities to you.” I guess he wants me to discover them for myself which will be so much more meaningful, right? He must see something positive in me. I know that I show up every week, I never miss my appointments, I pay my bill within minutes of receiving it in the mail. I wonder if he sees anything more than that? Sometimes I wish he would give me a clue.